The Land Of The Free
by S. Sora Nirbas
Summary: A little named Annabelle lives in a world created by my interpretations of Edgar Allan Poe's poetry. Her life is less than satisfying. She learns to transcend reality, but this new reality of her's absentmindedly leads her to wanting only death.


This morning had not been any different from the other mornings of the seven years of Annabelle's life. Her eyes fluttered open, like snowflakes were trickling off her eyelashes. She was holding her stuffed bear, Eulalie. _Good morning, _Eulalie told Annabelle telepathically. Annabelle pretended not to hear her, frightened of that same voice in her head. She was her sister's bear, and she was one more thing that reminded her of gloom.

Suddenly, Annabelle's brain was filled with a sophomoric dismay. She was no longer in her dreamland, which often came as the quaint winter time town called Frosty Village. It was one of those childhood wonderlands that we have all imagined at one point in our life. Then, she got that same scent of the want for freedom.

As usual, no one was there to wake her up. Father was looking for a new house, again. Mother was working her three jobs, again. And Lenore, her sister, was free, again, and forevermore. Annabelle was on a scraggly carpet, but fortunately, she was not alone. Alistair and Violet, the previous siblings that lived in the house, were playing Chutes and Ladders on the wood floor. Alistair and Violet were free, but they enjoyed giving little Annabelle company. You could say, perhaps, they were her like her parents, past that the twins had the appearance of four year olds. Annabelle got on all fours and crawled out her door. She made her way to the bathroom and looked at the mirror. Her nightgown's frills had drops of blood visible, and her neck showed wounds as if someone's nails were digging in it. She looked at the calendar in the hallway. It was July Fourth. Another day going the same as always, but definitely not sane.

From her earliest memories, Annabelle only spoke with Alistair and Violet. Her parents were rarely home, unless she was still awake when they came home, and her sister she had hardly known. Annabelle was only three by the time that Lenore was murdered. Nothing had been sane since. Especially Annabelle.

Her mother fell into a deep state of depression, attempting suicide. Her father began chronically gambling and smoking crack, only trying the suppress the memory of Lenore. He saw illusions often and sought psychological help even though he didn't have the money. The family moved four times already. They sold most of their furniture, forcing Annabelle to sleep on a carpet. Since they moved so many times, Annabelle never developed a stable friendship, and her young mind could not take the sad world she lived in.

As she walked back into her room, she sat down next to Alistair and Violet and her nightgown flowed around her mystically.

"Good morning, darling," said Violet. Violet and Alistair were from England, and when they were living children they moved to Annabelle's first house.

The twins both died of measles nearly forty years earlier. They've stayed with her ever since Lenore's death.

"I see you've been to Frosty Village," Alistair announced in a discreet concern, seeing the blood on her nightgown, "When will you join us there for good?"

"Eldorado won't let me," Annabelle whined between threatening tears.

"Oh, don't let that worm conquer you!" Violet grumbled.

"He bit me!" Annabelle cried, pointing to her wounded neck.

"Once you move there, he won't bother you. It's just not the right time for your freedom." Violet explained warmly.

"What are you going to do today, dear?" Alistair asked as he moved his character up a ladder on the game board. Annabelle thought for a second, but it could have been an hour. In that single second, her brain had brought her around the world.

"I think I'll go to the beach." She told him.

"Don't forget your bather." Violet reminded her.

Annabelle trudged down her winding staircase, which she fell down too many times as a younger child. She didn't need a bathing suit. No one cared if she came home with soaked and salty clothes. Or did they? Annabelle was asleep by the time Mother and Father came home. They went to a late therapy class because of their tight schedule. It didn't help much, since their bodies already made their minds up. Lenore was the only rare and radiant sane family member who died so young.

Since Annabelle lived in a community right by the sea, the walk was rather easy. The ocean's water flushed out her emotions, and she felt utterly serene, past the pesky blackbirds or ravens or whatever they were covering most of the beach. The water also washed her face, which was clay like from her stained tears.

And for years, Annabelle would have a day much similar to this, until one day in her tenth, miserable year. Her neck was red and burning from Eldorado's bites. She had a burst of rage and stress, probably due to that she surprisingly hadn't seen Alistair or Violet that morning. The birds on the beach were as annoying as ever.

Annabelle called them over with bread crumbs, telepathically ordering the birds to come into her hand, but then she slipped her slender, frostbitten fingers around their necks and squeezed, blocking off their breathing. By the time she was done strangling the blackbirds, there were seven in total. She put them into her book bag. She began to go back home, when someone came in her way. He seemed to be a mime, but he had strangely looked her age. He mimed her earlier actions, and went into her bag, taking a black bird out. He made his hands look like a flying swallow, and then he settled the black bird within his hands. The raven awoke in his hands and flew away, onto Annabelle's doorpost. Then, suddenly, the mime kissed Annabelle's baby cheek.

Annabelle's young heart attached itself to the mysterious mime. Her body overflowed with an unexpected joy. She felt more stable than ever, though what she had witnessed was obviously more insane than anything she had ever seen in her life. It was love, but it was soon lost. Her world began to spiral, and the more she tried to get closer to the mime, the more her distance expanded. The earth was spinning, and Annabelle's tiptoes boomed on the ground. She shrieked like the dying ravens, and found herself coming closer to her home. And then she was in Frosty Village again, asleep, in reality, but the events she went through had not been a dream. Perhaps a dream within a dream.

Later that night, Annabelle's mother and father came into her room and kissed her on the brain, like they had for the past ten years. But tonight, her mother lifted her into her muddy Chevrolet, and dropped her off at the safest place for her, though it was far too late. The DeJarnette Children's Asylum.

When Annabelle awoke, she found herself in a curious place. It was a pure white room, except for a pink border on the wallpaper and a light peach colored mattress.

Eulalie was lying on the mattress with her.

_It's nice here, Annabelle. Nicer than your old home. _Eulalie began speaking telepathically to Annabelle.

**Why am I here?**

_Your mother brought you. You'll like it. You'll heal. _

**But I feel fine.**

Annabelle walked around the room, making a figure eight. She went to the door but it was impossible to get out.

**I'm locked in. **

_But you'll get better. _

**But I want to be free.**

_Not yet._

**When?**

Suddenly, an orderly in a pristine white gown creaked open the door. He waved to Annabelle nonchalantly. She didn't wave back. The date was July Fourth, and fireworks were going off over the ocean next door. The orderly took out his key and opened the large window in Annabelle's room. He leaned over and watched the show, but quickly retreated when someone called him out of the room. Someone's heel made a distinct footstep as it slowly walked into the room. And then there was no sound. Not even Annabelle's cries made noise. The room began to fade in front of her eyes. She saw the snowflake's falling, but she was still awake. The brightness and beauty of Frosty Village filled the small room. Eulalie wasn't in sight.

**Where are you, Eulalie?**

_Annabelle, what are you doing? Snap out of it, your mother is here to see you!_

**I can't.**

_She's tapping you, Annabelle? She's shaking you, don't you feel her? She's screaming, can't you hear it?_

**My stomach is turning!**

_Stop! You're tossing around!_

**My legs are breaking!**

_Wake up! You're falling!_

**My throat is closing!**

_No, Annabelle! You're choking yourself!_

All of a sudden, Eldorado elusively came out from the distance.

"Annabelle, you've been alone and uncared for for far too long. From childhood's hour you have not been. As others were, you have not seen. I thought, perhaps, your life would come into view, but it is clear to me that the hope is gone. You are welcome into Frosty Village, and all of those who you have loved alone are waiting."

Annabelle's vision subsided. All of a sudden, Annabelle broke out of her spasm and uncontrollably threw herself out the window. Or had some kind of force pushed her? Fireworks flew into the water as she landed. "The Star Spangled Banner" was ending. _For the land of the free, and the home of the brave. _Annabelle smiled and died deep in the ocean. And she was finally free.


End file.
